HYSTERIA

HYSTERIA (1965). Director: Freddie Francis.

One of Jimmy Sangster's worst scripts is the main problem of this silly pseudo-thriller in which an American (Robert Webber) traveling from France to England winds up losing his memory in an auto crash. The dead driver's widow, Denise (Lelia Goldoni), arranges for his treatment in a clinic and for him to stay in her luxury apartment. Trying to summon up comparisons with Psycho, there's some business with a bloodied knife and then a corpse being found in or near a shower stall with the water running and so on -- but this is no Psycho and doesn't even come close. The film never works up more than the mildest of suspense as it tries to make you wonder who Webber really is and how he fits in with Denise, the dead body, and Dr. Keller (Anthony Newlands), the doctor who's been treating him. Jennifer Jayne from The Crawling Eye plays Gina, a nurse and romantic interest. A riot of loose ends and stupid contrived murder "plots," Hysteria is simply tedious and terrible and never makes much sense. Goldoni had a better role in Theatre of Death a couple of years later. Sue Lloyd of Corruption briefly plays a zesty French hooker. Dan Banks' jazzy score is pretty bad.

Verdict: Unmemorable British thriller. *1/2. 

THE PSYCHOPATH

THE PSYCHOPATH (1966). Director: Freddie Francis.

Despite its title and the fact that it was written by Robert Bloch (who wrote the novel Hitchcock's Psycho was based upon), The Psychopath is not quite a psycho-shocker with an emphasis on gruesome deaths (although there are some of those, of course, but they're not too graphic). Rather it's a comparatively tasteful mystery about a series of murders of men who may have wrongly accused a German man of being a war criminal. The man's widow, Mrs. Von Sturm (Margaret Johnston) and son Mark (John Standing) are suspects, but there are other possibilities as well. The killer leaves dolls that resemble the victims at the scene of each murder. The mystery deepens when people who have no connection to the Von Sturm's start being targeted. Absorbing, well-acted thriller (Johnston is particularly good if slightly hammy at times) is no Psycho but it has its moments (including some awkward, stilted ones). There's a good climactic fight in a shipyard (with classical music in the background) and an effective credit sequence with evocative music by Elisabeth Lutyens. Patrick Wymark is the inspector on the case; he's bland but more than competent. The epilogue when the killer is finally revealed is nicely chilling and disturbing. 

Verdict: This is suspenseful stuff in a minor key. ***.